


gridball, the net, and i

by colonelborkmundus



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Female Farmer: Iris Johansen (OC), Fluff, Marriage, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 06:19:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18047162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colonelborkmundus/pseuds/colonelborkmundus
Summary: Idly passing the pristine gridball back and forth between her hands, she asked: “Do you ever miss playing?”Instantly, Iris knew that was the exactly wrong thing to say -- but the words had already left her mouth. They were there, out in the open. No take backs.





	gridball, the net, and i

**Author's Note:**

> There is no real context to this -- as in, I’m not quite sure if this will be turning into more, be part of a series. I'M NOT SURE YET, PLEASE DON'T ASK ME. If this does turn into a series, I will update accordingly. But no promises!
> 
> This was inspired by a bit of dialogue that Shane randomly says after you marry him: “If… If only… ah, I was just thinking back on the glory days, when I played gridball on the varsity team. Now I’m old and weak, though…” One of my headcanons is that Shane almost went pro as a gridball player when he was in college in Zuzu City, but a devastating injury quickly brought an end to that. He's still not over what happened to him. It sucks, man, to be full of potential in something you really enjoy, only to have that taken away from you because lolsob the human body is kiiiiiiinda stupidly fragile.
> 
> My deepest apologies for any errors -- this shitty fic has been brought to you by Dr Whiskey and NyQuil, and was subsequently unbeta’d and left loose upon the world, which is… really not like me. I’m not a WIP kind of gal. My bad, dudes.

Idly passing the pristine gridball back and forth between her hands, she asked: “Do you ever miss playing?” 

Almost instantly, Iris knew that was the exactly wrong thing to say -- but the words had already left her mouth. They were there, out in the open. No take backs.  _ Fuuuuuuuck. _

Shane colored in a way that she had never witnessed before. Not ever. He looked as if he was struggling, internally fighting with himself over something; but what exactly, she might never know. Another beat of the awkward silence that hung heavy between them, and the dark cloud she read in his eyes was gone. Just like that. Remarkable.

“Of course I miss it,” he said, in a mildly gruff voice. “I think about playing every single day.” 

“I’m sorry,” she blurted, the gridball nearly slipping out of her grasp. “I just…”

“Just what?” He looked at her with equal parts curiosity and Yoba-knows-what. 

Iris sighed, and handed the gridball back to him with a rueful smile. “I know that gridball used to be such a huge part of your life. I’ve just been thinking lately about… I dunno. Putting up a net by the house or something.” She absently chewed on the bit of skin around her left thumbnail. “You could dork around on good days, maybe even teach Jas how to play. It’s probably a dumb idea, though.”

“No,” he said, a little too quickly. He held the gridball close to his chest.

“No as in that’s a stupid idea, or no as in I’m being a dummy about this? Either way…”

“No, I mean...” Shane sighed and sat down on their front steps, still clutching the ball closely. “It’s not a dumb idea. That’s really thoughtful of you, actually.” 

“Oh,” she said. He patted the empty spot right next to him, and gestured for her to sit. “Okay.”

Shane sat quietly for a moment, deep in thought. Suddenly, he proffered the gridball back to her. “I know that I can be a difficult man to love,” he said, voice lower and much quieter than usual. Vulnerable. A different side of him -- much different --, a relatively new facet in the whole complexity that she knew as Shane. 

“It’s okay.” She leaned into him, letting the ball rest between her knees. His hand shyly reached out for hers. “You don’t have to say anything more.”

  
  


 

The next morning, he spotted her surveying a patch of field with Robin, chatting animatedly in the way that was so Iris, although he could not make out the words. She waved happily at him as soon as she realized that he was watching her.

 

 

 

The following week, the flags disappeared and a gridball net appeared in their place.

It was early morning -- early for her, even -- and he was up after another sleepless night with insomnia and agonizing knee pain. Figured he’d get up before her, ignore the screaming of his bad knee, and water some crops, maybe even get a headstart on feeding some of their livestock. He stood on their deck admiring the net that had appeared seemingly overnight. He heard the careless slam of the screen door shutting behind her, and the heavy footsteps of her approach. 

Smiling, she kissed his stubbled cheek. “Hey there, handsome.”

“Hey,” he said, leaving it at that. 

“Do you like it?” 

“I do.” A slow smile spread over his face. “I do. Thanks.” 

Whatever this feeling was, this unsteady, warm blossoming of his heart -- as uneasy as it made him, he never wanted to let it go. 


End file.
